When The Shadows Howl
by Noitavlas
Summary: Loki's punishment was to live in Midgard as mortals do, without the aid of magic. Through Thor's pleading, Anthony Stark provided Loki a place to stay in while he serves his punishment. Friendships develop, family reunites and a whole new horror awaits-and it starts when Tony accepted an invitation to a business trip in London, dragging Loki along with him. Non-Slash.
1. Act I Scene I: The Plea of the Lost Son

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are not mine, and I do not make any amount of profit by writing this story. Its only purpose is to **unleash my imagination**, and to let anybody who reads it find some sort of entertainment in my work.

Warning: English is not my first language, so there WILL BE errors. Don't expect too much, it kills people… And I'm not abandoning ANATC, I'm just taking a break from that.

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"**The Plea of the Lost Son"**

"_It is a wise father that knows his own child." –William Shakespeare_

Loki kept his head down as the council of Asgard argued amongst themselves. Odin threw his adopted son brief glances while Frigga stood aside, silently weeping. Thor argued along with them, standing up for that who once was his younger brother. The golden court was oddly peaceful beyond the circle of yelling and shouting on the round podium. The god of Mischief watched quietly, exhaustion and defeat was openly displayed on his features, his shoulder slumped and weary; no more was the malice that lingered in his gaze when he was leading the Chitauri on Midgard, only acceptance and relief. For years since he fell from the Bifrost did he dream of coming home, of seeing Thor and Frigga, of talking to Odin, of basking in the rays of sunlight through his chamber window. For years, he floated in anger and despair, in self-pity and hate, in unspeakable loathing—waiting upon Death's doorstep. He didn't know how long it was, but it was long enough for him to start letting go; to learn and to see reason... to forgive. The void changed him, relieved him; it became what he needed to forget his pain, the immature yearning for attention that had been kept within. It was what made him jealous of his brother, it was what made him a trickster that harbors the attention of the public, and it was why he always ended up angry and petulant about his parent's lack of attention. It was what eluded him to the fact that Odin gave him what Lauffey never would think of. Love, time, family—a life.

Not long after his epiphany, he started thinking of a way to return to Asgard, to his home; to the people whom he had forsaken for his own selfish purposes.

He started preparing his speech for Odin. He started recalling Frigga's embraces. He started imagining the new adventures that he and his brother would have once he returned. Though, there was one thing that he did not intend to happen while he was floating, recovering, dreaming and helpless across the void. He was rescued.

He was healed and was given a place to recuperate by a strange being. Unfortunately, along with his accommodations, he was trapped with bartered promises. The being, Thanos, wanted him to rule—nay, Thanos wanted him to destroy Midgard for him; for that was all the Chitauri are capable of, in turn he will be allowed to returned to Asgard, the place he deeply longed to be.

He focused on the task given to him; he planned his attacks, and he travelled to start the chaos that was his promise, his word, his self-assigned duty.

He never meant to hurt the mortals, nor did he ever wish to rule them, but hurt them, he did. He had justified his actions as a necessity for him to get home. It was not in his plan to control the mind of the agent, nor of the doctor's, but his hand moved even before he thought of doing so. He spoke words of domination even before he realized them, and yet he thought nothing of it. Partly, he accepted it as a temporary mental damage from floating too long in the void, but then he met his brother while he was on his quest to end Midgard.

When he saw Thor, he wanted to tell his brother how much he had missed him, but the scepter controlled him. It pushed him to lie to his brother, the words were not his own, his body recoiling to the god of Thunder's touch when he yearned for it. It was at that time that he wanted nothing more to do with Thanos.

He wanted to break out, but Fate never did go as anyone willed it to, nor does it bend to anybody's whims and desperate pleas. Fate carved its own plans long before he begged for them to change—so, why should Fate change it for the likes of Loki?

Instead, he was lead to fight his brother and his friends, the Avengers. He opened a portal that almost destroyed Midgard, and he could have won and wouldn't have been completely aware of it since he was under Thanos' control. He would've been made into a loyal dog to this being whose obsession towards Death was unparalleled. He remembered raging internally, doing any possible way to break away from the control Thanos had over him. Then, he woke up in pain and confusion. He was surrounded by the Avengers, along with his brother. He couldn't feel nor find Thanos' essence in his mind. He, finally, was free. He was so happy that all he could blurt out then was that he was ready to have that drink that one of the Avenger's offered him.

He was detained and locked into one of Midgard's finest prison. He was fitted for magic-repressing shackles, and he was given a muzzle. Not that he could fault any of them about it. He earned it for calling the only lady of the group a 'mewling quim'. Though it was Thanos' words, it was Loki's mouth and voice that spoke it. He was not given the chance to talk to his brother, but he relayed his gratefulness through other means. His eyes.

Whenever he would look at his brother, he poured all the emotions that he can—love, admiration, pride, happiness. He wouldn't say that it was too much, but the first time that he and Thor locked eyes, the older god jerked in surprise at what he saw and proceeded to check Loki's health. It was probably why Thor was fighting tooth and nail against the idea of chaining Loki in one of Asgard's dungeons to be tortured and used against his will. For that, Loki was eternally happy to have a brother like Thor.

"Loki Odinsson." Odin's voice was loud and commanding, yet gentle, garnering respect to those who heard.

Loki raised his head a little, yet he kept his eyes down. A sign of submission, of fatigue, of change, yet he could not speak. The muzzle was removed by Thor when they entered the court, but he could not find his voice, nor could he think of any word. Not at the moment, at least. Not when Odin made it clear that he stills thinks of him as his son.

"You have been brought before this council because of your crimes against Asgard and Midgard. What say you about these accusations?"

Finally, Loki looked up to the god he called father. "I am guilty," He spoke hoarsely. "—and I will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary, Allfather."

Frigga cried silently still, her eyes locking with her youngest as he continued. "But if I could, I would like to wish for a chance of redemption."

Odin silenced the court as their calls of 'lies' and 'monster' got too loud for his liking. He faced the child that he raised within his palace walls with a stern expression, making the god of mischief bow his head. "You think you are worthy of redemption?" he asked.

Loki looked straight into his eye and answered. "I am no more worthy of it as anyone of this room is, for even gods make mistakes."

The room erupted in another uproar, this time they called for Loki's head to be severed.

Odin stared at his youngest for a while, letting the room fall into chaos with all the voices stating what they wished to happen, until he finally looked up and silenced room once again.

The people of Asgard looked curiously, some almost out of their seats while others just calmly waiting for the Allfather's decision.

Odin stepped down from the podium and walked over to where Loki stood. The crowd watched as the Allfather raised his hand and placed it on the criminal's shoulder. "If it is a chance for redemption you seek, then I shall give it to you."

Loki's eyes widened but kept still as the room was deathly silent.

"No matter your origin, Loki, you grew in the ways of Asgard. Therefore, you are of Asgard. You will serve your sentence and prove to us that you're worthy of redemption." Odin continued. "But you will not serve it here."

The god of mischief merely nodded and waited for the Allfather to continue.

"You will serve it in Midgard without the use of your magic. You shall live as a mortal does, in exile, until time shows us that you are ready to come back and reclaim your immortality and your magic." This seemed to have placated the people in the court room as they were then nodding their heads in their places.

"Allfather…" Loki began as he felt his throat tighten with emotion. "I am thankful, but if I may just have one more suggestion before you strip me of my freedom to speak." Odin nodded for him to continue. "I will live in Midgard as a mortal, and I know that it will take some time for me to understand the humans. I will age and I may not be able to return should circumstances be given the chance to take my life away before I am judged either worthy or unworthy of redemption. If you would permit this as my last condition, I would like for Thor to come visit every now and again."

"Visit?" came Odin's surprised reply.

"Yes, Allfather." Loki dropped his gaze on the floor as he continued. "I have been floating along in darkness for a very long time," he raised his eyes to seek Thor's, whose eyes were wide and hopeful. "—I have come to miss my family, but I have yearned for my brother's comfort the most."

Before the crowd could begin their debate anew, Odin walked back to the podium and turned to Loki. There was a smile in his eye that brought the god of mischief to tears. He barely heard Odin granting him his condition, almost failing to acknowledge Frigga's last embrace and Thor beaming smile. His attention was focused on the Allfather as he walked towards his family. "I wish you luck, my son. Your mother and I will wait for your return."

And so Loki was stripped of his magic and of his immortality, and was exiled to Midgard.

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To be continued...


	2. Act I Scene II: The Longing of an Orphan

(A/N): Hurray for positive feeds! Okay, so just to answer a question: No, Loki told no one that he was controlled by Thanos until later. Thank you guys for the faves, follows and of course, the encouraging reviews~ You are awesome! Okay, here's chapter 2:

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"**The Longing of an Orphan"**

"_Family is not an important thing, it's EVERYTHING." –Michael J. Fox_

"Mum, I'm tired…" A young voice spoke in front, making Hermione Granger-Weasley look-up to see a boy. "You are, are you? Well, why don't you tell me what you've been doing all day?" She gave him a sad smile when the boy merely looked down to his little feet. Hadrian Weasley was their eldest son, being 10 years old; next to him was Rose Weasley, 6 years old; and last and youngest was Hugo Weasley being 4 years old. Hadrian was small for his age. Very small, in fact, that he and Rose were almost the same height. He was a shy little boy, kind and fair as he was taught as he grew. He was obedient, and rarely does anything worth a scolding. He was introverted; opting to just seek out his mother's company than find children his own age to befriend. Hermione didn't mind, because Hadrian was her best friend once, before the Hallows had given him the responsibility of the Master of Death. She researched what that responsibility entailed, pulled more than just a couple of favors to know what was happening to him. In the end, it was Death herself whom had given her the answer. It was very risky on her part being pregnant with Rose. She summoned Death on their backyard with a straight razor. Hermione calculated and prepared for it immensely, for one mistake could lead to her permanent end—and so to for the child she bore. She drained herself an amount of blood enough to keep her hanging between life and death, before quickly healing her wounds. It was then Death showed herself to the witch, answering her questions patiently and reminding her that it was not her time. After getting her answers, Hermione drank a full flask of Blood Replenishing Potion to pull herself back to health.

Death had explained it to her that if Harry was to retain his innocence, his age should never increase more than it had, nor should it ever stay the same. He was gifted immortality, but he will stay in a body that forever cycles between 15 months old to 17 years old. His memories' cycle was the same. As he aged backwards, the memories from when he was one year old fades to nothing, and so the cycle continues. It was the only way Death saw fit to prevent Harry from losing his innocence and giving in to the power of Hollows. For if a man, wise and influenced by many, can be driven insane by them; what of a man walking in a body fully capable of nearly anything, with a memory as powerful as the weapons he wield?

It was all understandable, but it also broke Hermione's heart to watch her best friend shrink to a mere babe, then grow to a teen—never ending. That even though with such power, Harry will always forget who she was, what he was part of, that he was their savior. It was unfair, but Hermione could only agree to what Death explained.

She adopted Harry and gave him the name Hadrian James Potter-Granger-Weasley as his full identity. She never told Ron, because she knew he wouldn't understand. He changed the moment Harry started forgetting things. Silly little things, like his first Chocolate Frog card. Then, Harry started forgetting their names. Ron thought that the raven-haired boy was just doing it to gather attention to him. If she was truthful though, Hermione almost thought the same. If it wasn't for that fact the she had caught the boy crying himself to sleep while trying to remember, she would have shared Ron's thoughts. The pain that was etched on Harry's face was unforgettable. The heart-shattering sobs that he tried to conceal with his pillow stayed ringing in her ears. It was then that she vowed to help her friend who had given her so much. She tried to get Ron to do the same, but instead he grew angry at their friend. It may have been the lingering jealousy, or it may not be that; but Hermione knew that her husband was not seeing the bigger picture. She tried her best to make him understand, but he was stubborn. She stopped trying when he turned his anger to Hadrian. Though he never showed any physical violence against their former best friend, he did it through shattering the boy's self-esteem. It was part of the reason why Hadrian grew as he did in their family. Ron even turned their children against the little raven. Making them remind him that he was adopted, therefore, less loved than they.

Had Hermione died after giving birth to Hugo, she feared that, Master of Death or no, Harry would've not lasted a day with Ron. She was grateful that she didn't.

Currently both mother and adopted son were spending the day in a muggle park somewhere in London.

It made Hadrian happy just to spend some quality time with the person who showed him more love than most and cared for him unconditionally. They spent the whole day playing around that park. Chasing each other, eating ice cream, laughing, reading, and exploring.

It was the most fun the little boy had in a while.

"Do we need to go back home now, Mum?" Hadrian asked as he was embraced by his mother. He smiled in content happiness.

"Not yet, love." His mother answered with such an unreadable tone. It made him frown.

"Okay." He replied and just waited. When his mother hugged him tighter, he couldn't help the feeling of trepidation crawling at the pit of his stomach.

"Hadrian, darling?"

"Yes, Mum?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Mum."

"—and no matter what your father and your siblings say, you will always be family."

"Yes, Mum."

"You will always—always be my son."

"Always?"

"Always."

"You're scaring me, Mum." Hadrian admitted as he hugged back tighter, feeling his eyes tear from the overwhelming emotion. Hermione laughed softly. It was a broken sound between a sob and giggle, instead of easing his fright though, Hadrian couldn't help but feel it build up.

"I apologize, love." His mother sighed. "—but you need to hear this, and I need to get this out. There's no better time than now."

Hadrian nodded and listened.

"Hadrian, you will always be my best friend, as you are my son. Never forget this, for someday, when I'm gone, it would be the only way for you to remember me by."

Hadrian looked up to his mother's tearful gaze, confused but listening still.

"You will always be mine to love."

His mother's stare was intense. He felt her words being engraved in his mind. He focused on it and let the warmth fill his very being. He closed his eyes and spoke back. "I will never forget the one who held me close, Mum. I will never forget you."

There was a moment of silence before she answered, and it was not what he was expecting.

"But you have to…"

Hadrian opened his eyes in shock and struggled, but as he pulled back he saw his mother drew out her wand and pointed it at him. Her face was red and there were tears flowing from her eyes.

"Obliviate."

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To be continued…


	3. Act I Scene III:The Whispers of a Friend

(A/N): I know it's short and barely takes the story anywhere, but this chapter was written in between other projects for school. I'll make it up with the next chapter, semester break is coming so it should be longer... The chapter, I mean.

The story is un'beta'd so forgive me for my mistakes, which I know even without looking is a lot. I apologize in advance. See you next chapter!

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"**The Whispers of a Friend"**

"_A friend is one who knows you and loves you just the same." –Elbert Hubbard_

"Loki!" Tony yelled as he dragged his feet towards the living room where he just knew that a former god would be occupying the left edge of the sofa while reading a book. "Loki!" He called again, glaring as he reached the green-eyed man who barely raised his eyes from what he was reading. "Loki!"

"I'm not deaf, Anthony. What is it?" Loki asked indifferently as he turned a page.

"Pants, Loki."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Pants. Where are my pants?"

"They are yours, are they not? Shouldn't you know?"

"They're not where I left them." Tony growled.

"And?"

"Where are they?" Tony demanded.

"Do I look like I want to be near them? Let alone touch them?" Loki sighed, but Tony heard some amusement to it.

"Just tell me where they are! I know you hid them!"

"And why would I do that?"

"You're the god of **pranks**!"

"**Trickery**, but I do love pranks."

"See! You admitted it!" Tony pointed at him accusingly. When Loki didn't even look up from what he was reading, the shorter man pouted and launched himself on the space next to the former god. With a sigh, he started zoning out.

It had been three months since Thor had come to his tower to beg for his brother's safety and Earthly accommodations. Three months since he had casually accepted the deal after the blond explained that Loki was made mortal and was without magic; two months since he learned that Loki was very much innocent, and one month since Thor's last visit. Somehow, it was all still surreal for him. Heck, even Pepper had gotten used to his daily frustrated screams indicating that Loki had done something to point out that he is indeed a god who was very fond ofpranks. Well, former god. To be truthful, though, Tony really doesn't mind the chaos. Maybe except for that one time that Loki started a food fight with a simple, out of the blue, giggle (which the former god denied with such ferocity that the billionaire's dresser would surely vouch for to never again experience). So, in all honesty, it really wasn't the first time that he walked around naked in the Avenger's Tower. It was his third. So, it really shouldn't be surprising him anymore, but Loki did have his ways in popping a prank when you least expect it.

"You're naked." Loki pointed out, still reading.

"Oh, now it bothers you?" Tony mocked.

Loki merely spared him a look, raising an elegant dark brow before his eyes went back to the book.

"Aw, you're concerned about me." The billionaire teased.

"I fail to see how this should concern me. My brother walks bare all the time at home."

Tony grimaced. "You just fuelled my nightmare."

"You're welcome." The former god smirked.

They spent about ten minutes basking in comfortable silence, before Tony broke it with a violent shudder. "You know, it kinda made me curious what it would be like if your brother was here and he go all 'bare' and hairy and—"

"How'd you know my brother's hairy?"

"URK, LOKI!"

"Hey, we had an implied peace-slash-silence treaty just a while ago; it wasn't me who broke it with such topic of curiosity. How did you know Thor was hairy?"

"I didn't! Gawd, Loki, how many nights of nightmare do you want me to have?!"

"You don't sleep anyway. It's either you shag some helpless wench or you drown yourself in alcohol. Oh, wait. You're currently seeing Lady Pepper so that hacks off the 'shagging' from your list of sleepless night's activities—"

"What do you mean 'hacks off the shagging' from the list? I'll have you know that I do shag and I shag well, especially Pep." Tony grinned when Loki scrunched his nose.

"I don't doubt Lady Pepper, just you, old man." The billionaire gaped at the former god.

"Old man? OLD man? Yeah, right, how old are you again?"

"Not that my age would really matter, no one would believe you." Loki smirked as he continued with his book.

"Alright, okay—you win the age thing. But the shagging award goes to me and my balls of—"

"ANTHONY STARK, YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE AND I SWEAR I'LL CUT OFF SOMETHING IMPORTANT FROM YOU." Pepper Potts announced loudly as she strode inside the lounge with two bags of grocery before heading towards the kitchen.

"—of carrots. BOWLS for carrots." Tony finished lamely, looking sheepishly at his girlfriend before grabbing the nearest pillow to cover his junk.

"Carrot." Loki piped making the other man look at him weirdly.

"What?"

"Singular, Anthony. A bowl for your carrot, which makes no sense, by the way." Loki shrugged.

"And if I insist that it's carrots?" Tony challenged.

"Well, I don't need to look you in the eye to know that THAT is a lie. Unless of course, you are hiding multiple red and yellow tentacles somewhere in your person." At this, Loki finally raised his head from the book he was reading and regarded the shorter man a searching gaze.

"Ew, that is gros—WAIT… Have you been watching porn?" Tony asked in disbelief.

Loki took that as a cue to dive back into his book. "You left me with nothing to do."

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To be Continued…


	4. Act I Scene IV: The Heart of a Parent

(A/N): Finally got the time to do this thing. So sorry for the long wait, you guys. Things just keep coming up and my friends are being great asses, so my mood just went down and stayed down. It's been a while since my last post here, and I thought of deleting everything—then, I saw all of the reviews. I thought, well damn, if it was me reading and suddenly everything was gone I'd be pissed. SO, here we go, a new chapter.

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"**The Heart of a Parent"**

"_When I was a kid, my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." – Rodney Dangerfield_

"_Come on, Loki, I said sorry already, didn't I?" _Tony's voice rang clear from the speaker's vehicle, in which one former god sat with a bored expression. "I told you, I didn't want to go." Loki's tone was deceptively calm, and the billionaire knew then that he had to be careful when he came back to their hotel room (he just knew that there would be some sick joke waiting for him). _"I didn't want to leave you in the house alone! Pepper is somewhere in DC, and flying to London without you just seemed wrong." _Tony sighed. _"Look, the meeting is about to start. I promise I'll make it up to you, just name it. Alright?" _Loki stared at the intercom before he himself sighed. "Fine."

"_Great! You and Happy have a great tour around the city; buy stuff and treat yourselves to an awesome lunch."_

"How long will you be in there? It's still quite early."

"_I'll be here while the sun is high in the sky, so I can safely say that you shouldn't wait up for me. Seriously, just sleep—don't wait up."_

"Do you want us to buy you something while we're out? Toothbrush, perhaps?"

"_Just some beer, I have a feeling that I'd need it after."_

"Alright."

"_See you later—"_

There was a short beep before the line was cut-off leaving the inside of the vehicle in silence. That is, until Happy spoke from the front of the vehicle, asking where they should head. Loki sighed again and leaned back on his seat. "I think a walk in the park would be nice this morning, don't you?" he answered.

"I do believe so, Mr. Odinson. There's a café near this certain park we're currently near at, would you like to stop by for some coffee first?"

"Why, Hap," Loki spoke in a mock-startled tone. "Had I known that you fancied me that way, I would have prepared myself for this impromptu date of ours." Hearing the driver spluttered denial made him chuckle. "Don't worry, you're not my type anyway, but I do like the idea of coffee."

Happy let out a relieved laugh before complying with 'Mr. Stark's guest'.

Loki sighed for the third time that morning before looking out from the window. It was a good day, so why waste it by moping?

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Sally Greene had jogged around the park many times when she was a teen, that was before she went away to America to join her then orphaned cousin. They were both fully grown adults now, so she thought, with longing in her heart, that it was time to go back home. When she started jogging that morning, using her usual route from before she thought that it would have already changed through time, but it didn't.

It was all as she had recalled, up until she came to the spot where she usually sat for breaks. It was beneath the shade of an old oak near the edge of the playground; the trunk was humongous and brown with drying bark, the leaving were turning to that of a yellow shade—the sure sign of autumn coming. It was not the tree that caused her to stop and stare though. It was the little shrine that was erected on its base. A pile of pebbles towered like a miniature white mountain and surrounding it were some sweets and small toys.

She stood there and stared for about five full minutes before being snapped back to reality by a tune. Sally looked around and spotted an old woman walking towards her place. The elderly was humming a melody as she made her way, carrying a small basket with her. Sally waited and observed as she watched the old lady kneeled in front of the shrine and proceeded to take out the things from her basket. There was a small thermos, two small cups, a Tupperware of biscuits and s small ball.

As her curiosity overwhelmed her, Sally approached the elder with halting steps. "Excuse me, do you mind if I join you?" she asked politely. The elder smiled at her before patting the next to her as invitation. "Are you here to try and talk to the ghost?" the kind old lady asked as she sat down.

"Ghost?"

"Yes, a little boy." The elder smiled as she poured them both a cup of tea.

"A little boy?" Sally repeated, shock coloring her words. "What happened? Did he die here?"

"Oh, nobody knows." The old woman offered her the biscuits but Sally refused politely so she continued. "He just showed up one day. Scared a few children playing in the ground, and concerned a few parents about the safety of the park."

That's when Sally noticed the lack of children in the playground. There were usually some kids playing by then, but that side of the park was unusually abandoned. "Did he haunt the kids?"

"Haunt?" The old lady giggled. "No, no, 'haunt' isn't a word I'd use to describe what he did." She took a deep breath and looked up. "I was there went it happened the first time."

"You were?"

"Yes, it was curious, you know." The old lady turned to her. "My husband and I used to take walks together in this park when he was still alive. We love it here. We often watch the children play, and talk about having our own. Anyway, when my dear Albert died, I never stopped doing so. It almost feels as if he's still here with me.

I was sitting by that bench over there when I noticed him, the ghost. Small boy—looked to be about 7 or 8, staring at the other children playing. He was pale and beautiful, like a little doll. I remember seeing the most vibrant green eyes following the children's movements like a kitten. His hair was a mess of darkness, the likeness of the small cloak that hung around him then. I thought he was dressed a little strange, but then I noticed that unlike the children in the playground, this child was without a guardian. He stood and watched the children until eventually a couple of them approached him. They were quite large, bigger than he was. I was scared for the poor boy, thinking that the other children might bully him with his petite size. I remember standing from my seat and making my way to them, but before I even got there the bigger boys were running and screaming. I remember hearing from one of them the word "ghost", and it stuck to those who had heard. I tried to find the little boy after, but he vanished. Simple, and untraceable. One of the parents who were present that day thought that the ghost child wanted a prayer, so those who were present to have witnessed the event joined together and built this little altar for him."

"Did he show up again after that?" Sally asked in awe and curiosity.

"Every now and again, he did show up. Some people tried to talk to him but he simply just vanished."

Sally just sat there with her cup of tea growing cold, processing the story she just heard. "That is quite something." She finally said as she placed the cup down and stood up. "Well, thank you for that, but I should be heading back now."

The old lady didn't pay her any attention as she took the still-full cup and emptied it before filling it up with fresh hot tea. Sally, knowing when she's no longer welcome, jogged away from place.

The elderly place the cup on the ground and hummed the same tune she was humming when she got there. As she cleaned the shrine, she listened to the birds singing along, the distant noise of traffic and some almost inaudible chatter from afar. Her humming never stopped as she caught the sound of a loud blare of what could be a car horn, a screeching noise that could only come from the friction of rubber tires and asphalt, and a very loud crash.

What used to be an old woman transformed then to someone younger. There sat a lady who was probably in her mid-thirties, arranging the same things around the altar.

"You best come out now, Harry. He's coming." She whispered as she stood up from her place and smiled at the little boy hiding behind the tree. "Stay here, he'll find you."

The boy nodded and watched her walk away.

Death never did explain to him why he waited for 'him', nor did she tell him who to look for, but she took care of him as best as she could, and he knew this. So, he obediently sat and waited for whoever was going to find him next.

* * *

The car was not moving. In fact, all the cars that surrounded them were still. There was an accident ahead. A girl, Happy told him, was hit by a car. Dead, they said—Happy said. Loki didn't care though, so he told Happy to just meet him in the park. The driver agreed and volunteered to get their coffee, too. Loki had a sneaking suspicion that Happy was aware of the little argument he had with his boss.

So, there he was, walking around the park. Watching as people hurried off to who-knows-where, or maybe the accident scene. The former god immediately lost interest in them. They were just people, same as he and Stark were. Mortals who would bleed and die like that girl from the accident.

"Her name was Sally." A lady smiled wickedly at him as she passed his pace, making him stop abruptly and turn to the woman. "I'm sorry?" he asked in confusion.

"The girl who died, her name is Sally. Sally Greene."

Loki raised a dark brow at the eccentric woman before bowing his head. "I'm sorry, but I do not know her." When he straightened back up, he was surprised to find himself alone on the path. 'Maybe she had somewhere to go.' He reasoned internally, before continuing his walk.

He wandered about and eventually found a deserted playground. Well, almost deserted. There was one kid playing. Loki sat on a bench nearby and watched. The child wasn't really playing, more like kicking the ground in an attempt to amuse himself. 'The kid's waiting, then.' He deduced, as he observed some more.

He was fairly young, no more than ten summers, at least. He might even be Hel's size, before they took her away from him. His heart gave a small pang of pain at the thought of his children. His playful Fenrir with wild black mane, not unlike the child's he was currently watching. Loki gave an involuntary jerk in realization. The child held some of his children's features, which might be the reason why he couldn't take his eyes off of him.

He is small and pale like Hel, his hair was that of night like Fenrir's. Loki could've stopped the comparison there, but then the boy looked up. Those eyes. Those glowing green eyes. They were Jormungand's, and his'. The child was staring at him, but nothing mattered at the moment. Nothing except the fact that he felt like he had found all of his children reincarnated in one body.

It felt like he was suddenly electrified.

He felt warm and content.

He felt the urge to protect this child from all the harm of the world.

He didn't even notice that he had stood from his seat and had walked towards the child. He didn't know when he had gotten to the boy, but he found himself kneeling in front of him.

And when the boy spoke, he couldn't help the tears that sprung from his eyes. "I'm Harry." The child told him. "Are you going to stay?" the voice that he was hearing wasn't very far from the hiss of a young serpent, he once heard and cherished. He must have nodded, because he then found himself being embraced by the child. He didn't know who was shaking more, but he didn't care. He found something that could be worth more than he could ever have back when he was in Asgard. He found someone.

He found someone and he felt complete.

* * *

To be continued...


End file.
